An Extraordinary Girl
by The Power Cat
Summary: Anastasia is an extraordinary girl in a very much ordinary world. Abused both physically by her parents and mentally by her classmates she longs to escape. Her ESP and Sleep Panic Disorder don't help much either, but when Jake Brockman comes into her life can he help her pick up the broken pieces? Or will she be tortured forever? RATED T for passages of abuse and depression.
1. Prologue

An Extraordinary Girl

The girl ran up the stairs, tears streaming down her face, an angry red cut making it's way down the tanned skin of her arm. Small drops of fresh blood scattered the white carpet as she ran into her room- what she classed as sanctuary. Opening the door she grabbed her chest of drawers and barricaded herself away from the world. Away from her parents. Away from the angry monsters that they were.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

Went the clock on her wall.

Drip.

Drop.

Drip.

Drop.

Went the blood on the carpet.

Ba Bum

Ba Bum

Ba Bum

Went her bumping heartbeat.

And she saw a boy sat with his siblings and father. They were having fun playing on the Wii, laughing and smiling. His life was a complete opposite to hers, yet they were the same in some ways.

The boy thought of that girl he had seen in class, the one who had used to be his best friend. He thought of the way her eyes shimmered underneath her glasses. And how they were as green as a cats.


	2. Poems and Visions

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN OUTNUMBERED**

Chapter One ~ Poems and Visions

'Now Anastasia if you would please read out your short story on Romance, but please chose us why you were assigned the genre before you do,' Mr Mansfield said as I groaned and grabbed my blue English book. Getting up out of one of the blue plastic chairs I swung my long dark chocolate brown hair out of my face and walked to the front of the classroom. 'Well firstly I was assigned Romance because- I began to say but was rudely interrupted by Harry Matthews. 'Because you're a slut!' he shouted and elbowed his friend Jake Brockman who simply laughed and smiled. Clenching my teeth together I balled my free hand into a fist as Mr Mansfield gave him a warning look and then turned back to me, as if he was giving me a sign to continue speaking.

'Anyway as I was saying I chose the topic because I find Romance hard to write, I'm more into tragedy. However this story does kind of have a slight tragic twist, because it's about a girl who has been in a coma for two years and her boyfriend has written her a birthday card for every year. So I'll begin,' I said and opened my book. I had written ten pages of my story so it took around fifteen minutes for me to read, in which that time half the class weren't actually listening. However there was one person who looked as if they were and I was surprised. Jake had his head perched on his hand and his blue eyes were fixed on me for the entire time. 'Angus kissed Rowena one last time as the darkness slipped over her like a billowing cloak. 'I'll love you forever, you know that don't you?' he whispered and she simply nodded her head. She clasped his hand with her thin, tiny one and squeezed it tightly. 'Angus I'll always be with you, looking down on you, and I'll always be in your heart,' she whispered taking her hand away from his. Now was the time for her to return to The Father, or as others called him Jesus Christ. But Rowena was atheist, so this didn't matter. Taking one final breath she closed her emerald green eyes and went back into eternal sleep. Only this time she wasn't given the choice of waking,' I said finishing my story, then snapped my English book shut.

'Well Anastasia that was a rather tragic story though I feel that you managed to capture the feeling of Romance very well, now would you please hand your book in so I can mark your work,' Mr Mansfield said and I had to admit some people _were _crying- girls _and boys-_ and in my opinion their tears looked pretty genuine. Sitting back down I received many looks- mostly raised eyebrows- however when I sat down again I saw something. Me being led across the Sports Field by Jake who then took me into the disabled toilets, and then he said something that sounded like, 'Anastasia the teacher told you to take it off, why won't you?' but Anastasia in the vision simply shook her head. 'Have you got a top on underneath?' he asked and I nodded, 'Well then… wait is someone hurting you?' he asked and I shook my head vigorously. 'They are, who is it?' he asked but I just shook my head. Without warning he pulled up the sleeve of my jumper, revealing a least four long cuts.

The vision ended and I zapped back to reality in a blink. 'Anastasia are you okay? I was asking you a question and you know I don't like to repeat myself,' the teacher said but I had my excuse. 'Sir it was my ESP, you know it makes me see things,' and he simply nodded. Most people in the school knew I had Extrasensory perception, in other it's like a sixth sense. And that vision I just had wasn't a very good one, it would mean that my parent's crimes on me would be revealed. ESP was one of the reasons for my nickname Freak and Psychic, also my green eyes and brown hair were thought to be a straight combination hence the name 'Cat-Eyes'. As well as this I was called 'Geek' and 'Nerd' many times a day. 'Anastasia what's wrong?' someone whispered and it was only then that I realised I was crying. The speaker was behind me so I turned around whilst the teacher was talking to another student. To my surprise the person who said that was Jake, I mean he didn't bully me because he knew what it was like to be bullied. But he was friends with Harry Matthews, one of the people who did bully me.

'Nothing,' I said quietly and he shook his head. 'Then why are you crying?' he asked indicating the small droplets of tears running down my face. 'It's nothing,' I hissed and turned back. The real truth was that a long cut on my leg was flashing with lightning bolts of pain, and the many bruises on my tummy weren't helping either. 'Now would everyone put their names in a hat and we can pick partners for the Romantic Poets Project,' Mr Mansfield said passing the hat around. I scribbled my name- Anastasia Kopalev- on a piece of scrap paper and put in into the black stovepipe hat. After everyone had done this our 'crazy' English Teacher went to the front of the large classroom and dramatically stuck his hand deep into the hat. He pulled out a large piece of A4 paper and unfolded it with an exaggerated flourish, then squinted to read the miniscule letters that someone had written down at the top of the page. 'Harry Matthews!' he announced and reached to pull out another name. My hand clenched round my HB pencil, my knuckles went white with tension. Who would he pull out?

'Anastasia Kopalev!' he said loudly and a groan escaped my system. Feeling a mixture of adrenaline, anger and tension tingle inside me I jumped up from my seat. 'I object!' I shouted and Mr Mansfield looked puzzled. 'Miss Kopalev, do you and Mr Matthews get along?' he asked and I rolled my 'Cat-Eyes'. 'Well obviously not otherwise I wouldn't be retaliating!' I shouted at him. There was NO WAY that I was going to be put with one of my worst enemies, in fact I could still feel the pain on my right arm from where he twisted it and punched it against a wall. 'Fine, Harry your name will go back in,' Mr Mansfield muttered and dropped the paper back into the tall hat. He pulled a piece out, opened it and then said, 'Jake Brockman, Anastasia no objections this time,' and I flung myself down on my small seat. At least I wouldn't be hurt whilst trying to do an English assignment as I was with my history. Then for the next ten minutes I just sat there with my head in my hands, until everyone had been paired up. Then Mr Mansfield just HAD to say the sentence I had been dreading, 'Now boys and girls, if you would please sit next to your partners!'

I simply sat in my seat, upright and rigid not moving a muscle despite a certain someone poking me in the back. The person sighed and picked up their books then plonked them down on the wooden desk, after this they slumped into the blue seat next to me. The teacher wrote down the three points of the project that we were to complete, which were: Essay, Timeline, Poem in Style of Romantics. So basically he was just leaving us to our own devices. 'God not the Romantic Poets, they were the biggest bunch of emos ever!' I groaned slamming my head on the table. 'If you keep doing that you'll destroy all those smart brain cells of yours, he said gently lifting my head up my pulling my hair. I shook my head and then processed the words that he had just said to me and discovered he had, no he couldn't have, he had complimented me! 'D-did you just call me smart?' I asked grabbing my pen and then started to right down points on the Romantic Poets.

'Yeah, it's no big deal is it?' he asked, frowning slightly his blue eyes clouding with confusion. 'Nah I guess not,' I simply muttered, as I tore out a piece of paper and screwed it up in frustration. 'Well then, whose going to do what,' Jake said, emphasising every single word of his sentence. 'Well we could both work on the timeline together, and then do half the essay and half the poem each?' I suggested, opening my ripped textbook. He just nodded and got on with his work, leaving an awkwardness lingering at the table. The rest of the class were chatting, exchanging gossip, holiday plans and other bits of useless information that they had just happened to pick up on the way to school whilst me and Jake were just working silently which was just the way I liked it. Until _something _in my head started to take me through visions of the future, and as it explored different pathways I tried in vain to shut it out. Alas I failed miserably, as I always did. One was a girl crying in the corner, her arms slashed and cover in thick, red blood. Another was of a boy comforting the girl, patting her back and wiping her fast and salty tears that were escaping her tear ducts at tremendous speed.

But the third and final vision was certainly far different from the rest. It wasn't literal, but more set in a metaphorical world. The same girl with the green eyes was walking down an alleyway, which was dark and gloomy. However she then met someone along the way, a boy with blue eyes who took her hand and let her off into a sunlit valley with grassy banks and a crystal blue river- just the colour of his eyes. But there was something or someone waiting for them there, two elves- a mother and a father- and two little sprite children- a sister and a brother, although unfortunately these were not their only companions. Sitting in the darkest corners of the bright world were two gremlins, waiting to snatch the girl away from her new friends and family, ready to take her back into the life that she already lived. And then as a pebble dropped from a cliff face it all blanked and the girl was taken back to reality. I had not realized that I had been the one to wake up, for my pen had fallen out of my hands and dropped onto the smooth carpet floor.

(Third Person)

Jake sighed and put his head in his hands as Anastasia lifted her head from the table. He hadn't dared to wake her, unless she let out one of those screams like she had done almost every night of the school residential in Year Eight. Apart from the night when he had slept by her bed to keep her comforted. That was when they had been friends. Something was going on with her and to Jake it definitely didn't seem to be for the better. The way she clutched her arms protectively, as if someone would shatter them and reduce her to dust. The way her eyes flitted about with flecks of fear and terror hidden inside their green depths. And the way she never smiled. Now that was seriously freaky. He had never really been the questioning time of sort, like Ben or Karen but he knew if he wanted answers he would have to ask for them. And fast.


	3. Toilets and Pendants

Chapter Two ~ Toilets and Pendants

As the bell rung signalling the end of English, I unzipped by black O'Neill BackPack and popped in my Neat book, Draft Book, Planner, Pencilcase and a textbook on the Romantic Poets. Zipping it up I swiftly walked away from the noise of the classroom, away from the students whom all seemed to hate me. Apart from one, they seemed to find me okay. But if only Kezia were here, Kezia my best friends from Year Seven to Year Nine. However around Year Eight she developed a rare form of Schizophrenia which I had seen forecoming, I just didn't tell her. Anyway they took her away to a House for the Mentally Isane. A Care Home labelled as an Asylum. I wasn't allowed to write letters in fear that she may remember and do something rash.

We had been the best of friends, inseparable in fact until that evil illness came and savaged her mind clouding it with an illness beyond repair. With these thoughts I walked to the Locker Block and came to Locker 13, which was unfortunately right at the top meaning at my small height I wasn't able to reach it without standing on tip-toe. Taking out my silver locker key I slid it into the gold coloured lock and tried in vain to turn it, whilst straining to gain more height. Eventually the lock gave way with a 'CLICK' and fell into my small hands. Opening the light blue box sized locker I lifted out my black P.E. bag and closed the locker, locking it as I did. Sighing I ran off before the evergrowing crowd of people had a chance to engulf me and sped off to the Sports Hall, dodging cars and students as I made my way. Quickly pushing open the red door to the Girls Changing Room I took off my tights and slid my black shorts on underneath, then unzipped my skirt and folded it neatly and placed it in the large red lockers.

Then I took off my shirt and winced at the sight of the cuts and bruises that covered my arms, back and stomach. It was only just Autumn so there was no need to wear a thick vest and my bruises were visible to the naked eye. Sighing quietly I pulled on my white P.E. Polo Shirt just before the first people had begun to arrive. The Changing Rooms filled up and the air became warmer, choking me as it desperately tried to filter through my lungs. Hanging my white shirt, tie and black Blazer from the small hooks inside the lockers I found my blue sweatshirt and pulled it over my head, satisfied now because the wounds were hidden. I shoved my black lace-ups inside the locker and closed it, not bothering to lock it for there were no keys. And even though there were bullies in my form, the Girls certainly weren't thieves.

I made an assumption that the bruises on my legs wouldn't really matter, because everyone knew I was always falling over and bruising myself blue. Rummaging in my black sack bag I found my white trainers and socks, put them on, tied my brown hair into a high ponytail and headed outside. The only people standing in the mild Autumn breeze were the P.E. teacher, a few boys, girls and of course my 'Friend' Jake. This was the setting for my vision and whether it would come true I had no knowing. But of course Miss. Green had to pick on me and I knew I was in for a hard time. 'Miss Kopalev, it's perfectly warm you have no need for that jumper take it off!' she said in her stern voice and I bravely stood my ground against the enemy.

'Sorry Miss, but I can't you see I have a bad cold,' I muttered but she merely shrugged my comment off. 'Until I have a note from your parents and your doctor you will not wear that jumper now, Take. It. Off.' she shouted, saying each word with an equal amount of evil. Adamant, I shook my head and her fat face grew red with fury and hatred for me. Hatred and fury for the girl who forever disobeyed her. 'Mr Matthews, please escort Miss Kopalev inside,' she snapped in her prim and stern voice. My eyes immediately widened with fear at the mention of the name Matthews. My arms shook violently and for a moment the world stopped until one voice, one voice alone possibly saved my life. 'Miss Green, I think I had better take her, you see she often has panic attacks and only I know what to do to calm her down,' a smooth voice said and Miss Green only nodded. I could feel strong arms wrapping over mine, pushing me into the Sports Hall. Into the Disabled Toilets.

'Come on Anastasia take the jumper off?' He said questioningly, iconically raising an eyebrow. I just shook my head, saying no in a silent way. 'D-do you have anything on underneath?' he asked nervously and so I revealed my white polo shirt underneath. 'Well then- wait is someone hurting you?' he asked, confirming the vision to be true. But not how I had seen it. Tears welled up in my eyes and I immediately wrapped my small arms around my tiny waist, in a protective manner. 'I just can't take it,' I sobbed and pulled off my jumper revealing the cuts that scattered my arms. 'I've been bottling it up for so long, ever since Year 8 they've been hurting me, abusing me,' I sobbed quietly, still looking at the dust particles on the boring grey floor. 'Wait who is hurting you?' he asked in a rather concerning voice. After a long, long, long while I answered in a small voice, 'My parents,'

He seemed to be completely shocked by this and traced the cuts on my arms, counting each one. 'Are there more?' he asked raising his eyebrows. I nodded instantly indicating with my finger to my face, legs, back, chest and tummy. 'It goes on for hours, hours on end and never stops even when they stop physically. There are still things in my mind, monsters waiting to hunt me down and devour me at the first time they get. Monsters that refuse to stop,' I whispered, looking into the floor yet again. Now it was his next action that really surprised me, he pulled me into a huge cosy bear hug as my tears dripped onto his polo shirt. It was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me since I was diagnosed with ESP. That's when the trouble started, when I was around five years old.

'Do you clean them?' he asked, pointing to a long scar in my arm and I immediately nodded. 'I have a First Aid Kit in my room, bought it from Boots,' I added, so as to not worry him. 'You have any bandages on you now? We could bandage your arms, and well pretend you were in... some sort of accident?' he suggested and I nodded to show that I had the bandages. Sneaking in the Changing Room- when your parents hate you and you live in the same house, you have to be able to walk silently- and unzipped my rucksack. Taking out the long white bandages I slipped out of the Changing Rooms and back into the Toilet. Softly taking the bandages off me, he slowly wrapped them around the patches of skin that contained the serious scars. 'Note, we'll need a note,' I whispered and he pulled out some paper and a pen from his tracksuit pocket.

'Hmmm, I'm very sorry to say that Anastasia cut her arms in an accident with a kitchen utensil, signed David Kopalev,' he muttered, as he scrawled on the paper and made up some sort of signature that resembled my father's name. 'Wait, you remember my Dad's name?' I asked, surprised that he had remembered it. 'Course I did, I remember everything,' he replied, smirking. 'Sure,' I muttered as he slipped the note into my hand and unlocked the toilet door. 'Try and make it realistic,' I called out to him as I walked out, remembering the time he was in my Drama group and he completely cocked up the entire thing. 'Miss. Green Anastasia has a note from her parents,' he said in a bold and confident voice, whilst I merely handed the note to Miss. Green with baited breath. 'Well I'm sorry to hear it Miss. Kopalev, although you could've told me,' she muttered and I held in a sigh of relief. God was she really that gullible? I just hoped that they wouldn't do an 'E.T. phone home' on me and alert my parents.

So my vision had been correct, but not in the way I had foreseen it. Even so Jake had learnt of my secret and would carry it as a burden before it got too heavy to carry. Then he would slip it off and let the cat out of the bag, hopefully to someone trustworthy. After a hard lesson of Football - in which I managed to bolt the ball into the hedge at least five time - we were allowed to go inside and get changed back into our school uniform then head off for lunch (Before English we had, had a Science Lesson on Reproduction, god help us) which was around an hour long. Slipping my skirt over my shorts I rolled it three times, took my shorts off then slipped my tights on and threw by shorts carelessly into my P.E. bag. Then I quickly unwrapped the bandages and slipped my shirt on over my bra and vest and then rapidly tied the red and yellow school tie and put my two-sizes-too-big blazer on. Undoing the laces on my school shoes I slipped them onto my tiny feet (size four and a half to be exact) and tied them into bows. Shoving my trainers, polo shirt and white socks into my bag I pulled the drawstrings and set in down on the floor and swung my rucksack over my shoulder.

Walking out of the sweaty Changing Rooms was like walking into a blissful and airy meadow, filled with pretty flowers and bunnies. However it was only the inside of the Sports Hall and nothing to be joyful about. Finding the silver chain of my Whitby Jet black pendant I slid my small finger down the chain so as to find the main attraction of the pendant. I had found it when I was around five, the day my ESP had been diagnosed. I can remember it as if it had only been a few months ago, the gypsy woman scrounging around outside the Doctor's Surgery had approached me and my parents. They were kind loving people then, who clutched either of my hands in their's looking down at me with smiling faces. The woman knelt down and opened my hand, then pressed the pendant in it. 'You'll need it,' she said, closing her gnarled hand over my soft skin.

'Nice necklace you got there!' Jake remarked, looking at my outstretched palm. 'Thanks, a gypsy woman gave it to me when I was five, the last happy day of my life. Well the last happy day I hadwith my parents,' I mumbled to him, and he nodded understanding the situation. 'Anyway, I was gonna' ask, do you want to come round to night. We could work on that English Project and you could stay for tea?' he asked, biting his lip afterwards. 'Yeah, I'd like that. I'll text my parents,' I replied and watched him smile that same 'cheeky chappie' smile. 'So... where you going at lunch?' he asked, looking at me with sort of puppy dog eyes. I just shrugged my shoulders, knowing that I would be 'haunting' the library as usual. 'Come spend lunch with me?' he asked and I nodded, glad to finally have a friend.


End file.
